The Book of Annie
by CaliforniaTexasNorthCarolina
Summary: After the poor reception for Axes Grind, I decided to listen to my readers' feelings and go back to my roots. If you gave input: thank you! I actually outlined this epic completely in reverse, because I didn't know where it was going to go. I had it as an idea floating in my head for a long time to write about Finnick and Annie from her perspective. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: 65th Reaping

**Chapter 1: 65th Reaping**

The salty sea air blows in my face as I walk along the beach. The gulls caw overhead. District 4 is not such a bad place to grow up. In fact, I would say it is the best place to be raised in all of Panem! Not many people may know that. Too many Capitolites come through here who fear the sea, but for most of us District 4 folk, it inspires awe. It's a creature all it's own. It moves, it curves with the land of the shore - even forms that land.

And, oh! The harbors and ports! Such bustling activity. It's probably some of the busiest and most critical of Panem's economy. Fishing is very important to us, even more so to the other districts who depend on it for sustenance.

And singing is also very important to us. For just now, as I stroll about the docks with my red hair in the wind, I can see a fishing vessel coming in with a load of fish. It's still a little far off, and the sun is still climbing in the sky; these fishermen must be back from a night catch. As they swab the deck and haul at the ropes, I hear them singing, sure and strong:

 _"I'll tell you a tale of the bottomless blue, and it's hey, to the starboard, heave ho! Look out, lad, a mermaid be waiting for you, in mysterious fathoms below!"_

And then, I see a figure bound up onto the deck that makes my heart go a-flutter. It's him! Finnick Odair. He's an orphan, but one of the youngest fishing boat captains ever. Where Finnick goes, a load of fish can be expected. Whatever skipper he commands, you can expect a good haul. Cause he's so gifted with the tridents and spears most fisherman use. He's been on boats since before he could toddle.

And he's _so_ handsome...

I can hear his loud voice engaging his men even from this distance. Charismatic to the end: "Isn't this great? The ocean air, the wind blowing in your face?"

From behind him, a woman - Mags, our very first Victor of the Hunger Games and the closest thing Finnick has to a mother - raises herself up from over the side, looking green. "Oh, how I worry for you, though, Finnick. None of this can be good for your health. You're a handsome lad, with responsibilities. The boys look up to you! They can't be seeing just a common sailor!"

"Mags, these men are anything but common. Aren't ya, boys?" Finnick says to his men. They cheer their approval. "These men are free, Mags, truly free! They don't have to answer to anyone but the Sea. I'd rather be a sailor than the Prince you'd want me to be any day!"

I am stirred by his words. Moved as he must be by the waves and the flotsam, I begin to sing myself. "Ahhhhhh, ah, ahhhhhh..."

Only I never expect Finnick to hear my voice. He spins about, thinking it's coming from the ocean.

"Follow that voice!"

"But Finnick! We must return this batch to shore!" Mags protests.

"Not while I'm Captain! Follow that voice - to the ends of the earth if we have to!"

"Ay, ay, sir!" Then the fishing vessel turns around, carrying away the sailors' singing on the wind: _"There's mermaids out there in the bottomless blue, an' it's hey, to the starboard, heave ho! Watch out for 'em, or you'll go to your ruin. Mysterious fathoms below!"_

I sigh deeply, watching his bronze hair, his perfect white complexion, alighted by the sun. Oh, Finnick...

I whirl around at the sight of a giggle, to see that it's my older sister, Emily.

"If you could just get a look at yourself!" she laughs. "Talk to him!"

"Right - a sexy fishing boat captain and a plain girl like me? I have got _nothing_ to offer!" I dismiss her. But inside, I wish I could pluck up the courage and talk to the man of my dreams.

* * *

Emily and I are dressed in our finest attire when we get home. For today is the Reaping for the 65th Annual Hunger Games.

I make to stand with the 13-year-old girls. Emily is with the 16-year-olds. In the 14-year-old boys' pen, I can see Finnick, dragged back in from his careless mission, looking smug and smirking.

Then, the Peacekeepers arrive up the center aisle. It's like a escort, an honorary guard (which by the way, those two are very different things) and a security measure all at once, as they carry District 4's pervious Victors to the podium. In 65 years, we have had three. So on average, one every 22 years or so. Mags Flanagan-Cohen, Victor of the 11th Hunger Games. Muscida Selkirk, Victor of the 23rd Hunger Games, is not far behind her in age. And Librae Olgivy, Victor of the 38th Hunger Games.

Three Victors. All of them women. No man from District 4 has won the Games before. But I hope someone does soon...

As the Victors pass us, we break out into a traditional song, and this is how it goes:

 _"In 1607, we sailed the open sea, for glory, God and gold and the Virginia Company. For the New World is like heaven, and we'll all be rich and free! Or so we have been told by the Virginia Company!... On the beaches of Virginny, there's diamonds like debris! There's silver rivers flow and gold you pick right off a tree. With a nugget for my Winnie, and another one for me! And all the rest will go to the Virginia Company!"_

I'm not too sure about the origins of the Company part, but I do know that District 4 once belonged to a state known as Virginia. It's a song about our history, which I can appreciate. I love history, especially about this land. This district. This is home.

After the Mayor reads the Dark Days speech, and reads the three names of our past Victors, our district escort, Triffel Clearscape, takes the stage. "Welcome, welcome! Today, we have the honor of choosing one young man and woman for the honor of representing District 4 in the 65th Annual Hunger Games. As always: ladies first!" She whips a slip of paper from the Girls Reaping bowl, the same way one might pluck out a book from the shelf. "Tassel Bellhorn!"

A girl of 17 takes the stage. Strong, muscular. She could certainly make a go of it. But what of the boy?

"Finnick Odair!"

I nearly scream. Mags briefly looks horrified, but manages to mask it quickly, as her adopted son of 14 takes the stage. _He's only 14!_

Which means one thing: Finnick is as good as dead, because no one that young has ever won the Games. From any district. Ever.

And that also means I'll never get to talk to the man of my dreams.

* * *

That very same night, the District 4 train pulls into the Capitol. I am still standing in the same place I was in for the Reaping, as I see the paparazzi at once enamored with my Finnick. Most talking heads comment how it's such a shame, that a Career so handsome was Reaped so young and will therefore almost certainly die.

But I have never really known how beautiful Finnick truly is. Not until I see him beatified in the chariot ride parade that very same night. Women sob and shriek and call Finnick's name. The tributes are then swept into the Training Center, and coverage ends for the night.

As a general rule, cameras aren't allowed in the Training Center. So there isn't much of anything to watch over almost entirely the next three days. I spend those days cleaning my house with my mother and Emily. The work keeps me from running distracted about Finnick. But I still think about him. A lot.

The third night, the tributes' training scores are broadcast. Finnick pulls a 10 despite his youth, drawing even with other Careers three or four years older than him. I begin to feel hope that maybe he could come home alive!

The fourth and final night is the tribute interviews with Caesar Flickerman, The staple host is as consummate as ever, putting even the shyest tributes at ease.

Not so with my secret love. He strides on confidently, to the shrieking delight of still more women. Even Caesar is impressed.

"My, my, Finnick! Wowwweeeee! Are you sure you're only 14?"

Finnick smiles amidst some fangirl screech. "I'm sure, Caesar."

"A strapping young lad like you must have some special girl waiting at home for him. What's her name?" The audience actually boos at this.

Finnick laughs. "There's nobody, Caesar. But she's out there somewhere. I just... I just haven't found her yet."

"Well, maybe you're just not looking hard enough," Caesar expresses, gesturing to the studio audience and prompting many more cat calls.

"Believe me, Caesar, when I find her, I'll know. It'll just - BAM! - hit me. Like lightning."

Emily scoffs beside me. "I think it already has. He's bedding someone, and no mistake!"

The buzzer ends and people actually wail as Finnick leaves the stage.

That night is frought with nightmares. Will my secret love be Victor? Or will he never see another night? I go to sleep unsure.


	2. Chapter 2: Son of Poseidon

**Chapter 2: Son of Poseidon**

I am one of the first people in the district square on the morning of the Games.

At 10 AM sharp, the arena goes live, revealing the landscape to be a strip of sandy beach with a grassy peninsula on one side and a limited crop of waves to swim in. Behind the tribute pedestals lies a patch of dense jungle.

Forcefields are all around the thing. I know arenas usually vary in size, sometimes extremely, but this one is especially small. Not a lot of room for the tributes to maneuver, and ultimately, more opportunities to drive the tributes together. Oh, Finnick...

The cameras finally pick up on him as the gong goes off, springing for the Cornucopia on the peninsula. I have a heart attack when I realize there is no trident to be had, but my secret love makes do with a spear. He stabs a tribute or two, even as most of them fade back into the jungle trees, the only place they can safely go. When the Bloodbath is over, and the Careers have officially taken over the horn, only ten tributes lie dead. Pooh. That's smaller than average. Usually eleven or twelve or thirteen tributes go in the first battle. But maybe a few others will collapse of natural causes by the end of the first day.

As I suspected from watching the interviews, there is a power struggle for who will be leader of the Career pack. The boys from 1 and 2 are pretty evenly matched for it, but Finnick foolishly tries to bully his way in and be leader. The others just laugh him off, but when he persists, the boy from 1 - Sirius - finally loses his patience.

"GET OUT, YOUNG ONE!" he bellows, banishing Finnick. "OUT BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND ABOUT KILLING YOU!"

Finnick has no choice but to run. Tassel, Finnick's district partner, does nothing to stop him or even come to his defense.

Over the next several days, Finnick wanders alone, foraging and sometimes hunting with his spear for food.

Then, suddenly, about a week and a half in, Finnick gets a gift from a sponsor: a trident. I stare. That has to be the most expensive gift I've ever seen given in any arena. Ev. er! When the trident lands in Finnick's hands, its glint captures him grinning triumphantly. And I realize that these Games are now over. If not officially, then they will be very soon.

By now, there are only eight tributes left, including the other five Careers. Doesn't matter. Finnick hunts them down one by one, weaving elaborate fishing nets to catch many of them. He even stabs Tassel, with seemingly little remorse, before saving Sirius, the boy from 1, for last. After the trident goes into Sirius's neck and kills him instantly, Claudius Templesmith announces:

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winner of the 65th Annual Hunger Games: Finnick Odair! I give you... the male tribute from District 4!"


	3. Chapter 3: Housekeeper

**Chapter 3: Housekeeper**

Finnick's final interview goes by in a blur. For me, I am aching just to see him again.

When his train arrives home from the Capitol, the place is packed. People are crowding the station to get their first glimpse at the most beautiful Victor in decades. Mags, Muscida and Librae come off first. Then, Finnick follows, and he is greeted with nothing less than a ticker tape parade through the district and towards the Victors' Village. Women throw flowers into his path or play tambourines. As for me, I am navigating the crowds just to see his shining bronze face.

I finally catch a glimpse of him. And I am so moved by his beauty, so filled with relief that he is safe, that I rush into the middle of the parade and bow down before him. "They will write songs about your victory, Finnick Odair!" I proclaim. "We love you!"

"Stand aside, girl!" growls a Peacekeeper. "Make way for the newest Victor!" And he raises his rifle to strike me.

"Stop!" Finnick orders, staying his hand. Then, actually taking mine in his, he helps me to my feet. "Thank you," he tells me sincerely. "That means a lot."

I stare after him in awe as he moves on. Finnick Odair actually touched me!

* * *

One day about a week or so later, I am doing chores with my mother when Emily rushes into our house.

"Finnick Odair is looking to hire a housekeeper for his mansion!"

I waste no time running over there. There is no one in line for the position at Finnick's door, but all the same, I desperately knock. Finnick answers, surprised.

"I'm your new housekeeper!" I announce proudly. Then, fearing I am too bold, I murmur as an afterthought, "If you'll have me."

"Wow! Such service!" Finnick grins. "And with a smile. All right, RedHead. You're hired. But if you're coming along, I've got to know who you are. What's your name?"

I open and close my mouth like a fish. My name... he asked for my name! "My name's Annie. Annie Cresta."

"Pleased to meet you." And we actually shake hands.

Looking back, I can see a gaggle or giggling girls hurrying away, giving me dirty looks now that the position of Finnick Odair's housekeeper has been filled.

* * *

I go to Finnick's house every day as the weeks go by, as the seasons begin to change. I scrub and clean every inch of the house. Finnick often stays indoor, except when he's captaining a ship, and we talk incessantly.

One day, I have just finished cleaning the kitchen when Finnick comes downstairs. He looks about, impressed.

"You've cleaned all this by yourself, RedHead?" he asked, employing what has become a nickname for me. Another nickname that I have heard many in the district use is 'Obeisant Girl.' "Come on. It's time you took a break. Walk with me?"

I nod a little too eagerly.

We still along the beach at sunset. We see many boats coming in for the day, and many more vessels going out for the night. A few seem to be storing provisions for long voyages. Several sailors all at once kneel before women in the sand and ask for their hands in marriage. It is custom for sailors going away on a long voyage to get an affirmative from a proposal, as incentive for coming back alive. There's even a traditional song sung, if the girl says yes, which is repeated at the actual wedding:

 _"I tell ya of young men in black-and-white coats, and it's say, to the port side, heave ho. You'll cart your bride off in a flat-bottomed boat to mysterious fathoms below."_

Finnick scoffs. "'Cart your bride off in a flat-bottomed boat'! Off all the stupid lyrics they could have chosen..."

"Why?" I blink. "I quite like that part. It's very romantic."

Finnick gives me a look that's deeply amused. "It's also sexist," he points out. "I mean, this is one's spouse we're talking about, not a piece of meat!"

I smile at his views on women's advancement and equality. We walk in silence for a moment.

"Say, Annie?"

"Hmmm?"

"Have you ever dreamed of getting married?"

"Yes," I reply, though I daren't not say it is him I would want to be married to.

Finnick grins, intrigued. "Anyone in particular?"

"No," I lie. "Nobody special. I'm a pretty plain girl. I'll be lucky to snag a husband." As for Finnick, well, now that he's a Victor, he could have any girl he wanted! Mags was married once upon a time, but her husband is long dead. And it has been rumored for decades that Librae is a lesbian, though I've never seen her with a partner, opposite sex or otherwise.

Finnick, meanwhile, looks shocked at my admission. "Don't say that!" he tells me. "You're more special than you will ever know! People always think they're less special than they really are." His voice grows quiet. "Boy, would I love to be like that..."

We continue our walk in silence.


	4. Chapter 4: 68th Reaping

**Chapter 4: 68th Reaping**

The year after, Tiffany Waxler, the girl from 10, wins. And the year after that, we suffer a bitter loss at the hands of District 1's Augustus Braun, the Cavalier Career, Panem's Favorite Son.

Before I know it, it is the Reaping of the 68th Annual Hunger Games. I stand with the 16-year-olds now. I feel lucky to have survived more Reapings than I need to still get through. And having Finnick onstage gives me a nice distraction. Seated besides Librae, he gives me a friendly wave and I wave back.

"Aravia McPoland!" A girl a few down from me takes the stage. Then it's time for the boys.

"Ron Stafford!" A boy from the 18-year-olds takes the stage. I recognize him from school, and immediately begin to feel nervous. Ron Stafford has gained a notorious reputation as a bully who will find a way to fight you sooner than ask for your name. He shakes hands stiffly with Aravia, and they are whisked by their mentors into the Justice Building.

I'm sad that I don't get to say goodbye to Finnick or even wish him luck as he goes off to mentor every year. But that doesn't mean I can't wait for him. So, I return to the Victors' Village, being everyone's housekeeper now as well as just Finnick's, and clean my crush's house. That done, I sit on the porch, intending to wait for him there every day until I either have to go to bed for the night, or he comes home.

* * *

The next three days make my waiting easier, as with the chariot rides over and the tributes in training, there is no mandatory programming. The night of the third day, the Training Scores are broadcast by Caesar Flickerman. Ron pulls a 9, but most of the other Careers outrank him at 10s. Still, it's an excellent score for our district. Ron should be proud, and so should his mentor, Finnick.

The fourth and final night are the interviews with Caesar. When Ron takes the stage, Caesar asks him: "So, Ron, what are your plans?"

"Become the leader of the Career pack. Then win the Games," Ron answers shortly.

At this, the audience actually bursts out laughing. Even Caesar chortles. "You'll be the leader of the Career pack?"

"Yes. I will," Ron replies, which only makes the studio audience laugh harder.

From where the camera zooms in, I can actually see a vein throbbing in Ron's temple. He's mad and brimming to explode, and I can see why: none of the Capitolites actually take him seriously. How can they, with the last two District 4 males dead in their graves, and the sponsors viewing Finnick as nothing more than a sex object? Add to that the fact that he got the lowest score of any of the Careers - even Aravia beat him for a 10! - and I can see why the Capitol seems to just be humoring Ron.

But they shouldn't be humoring him. I remember my mother talking to me once about the Stafford boy. How there was much anger in him. How that anger could be harnessed perfectly for a place like the arena. Could be used as a weapon to win the Games.

And I suddenly fear that it's Ron, and not the Capitol, who will get the last laugh.


	5. Chapter 5: Following the Leader

**Chapter 5: Following the Leader**

A part of me doesn't want to get up early for the Games the way I did when Finnick was competing. But my mother and Emily insist.

When the arena goes live at 10 AM, I look upon a frozen tundra. 1 minute to get their bearings, and then the gong goes off. Ron is one of the first to reach the pile, seizing a pickaxe that he probably mastered in training. I've never seen a District 4 tribute use one of those before. But he uses it much as Finnick uses his trident, like a deadly extension of his arm.

When the Bloodbath is over, scores of bodies lie dead. The Careers - all six of them, even Aravia - are in a kind of posse ring, looking for any more foes to fight. But there aren't many; I wonder if these six are the only guys left.

I'm close. We are already at the Final Eight. I determine from the faces in the sky that night that the only other survivors are the boys from Districts 10 and 12.

* * *

By mid-afternoon the next day, the Careers are already bored. Severus, the monstrous boy from 2, has managed to claim the mantle of Alpha male, leader of the Pack, which maddens Ron to no end. He is itching to fight.

"Let's at least hunt down 10 and 12," he begs. But Severus waves him off.

"Give them time to get their bearings. They'll die; there's no hurry." And he's right. There isn't any hurry. When your'e dealing with the inevitable, why bother hastening it? Let the Games drag on a while, the Capitolites love that.

Ron stamps his feet in the snow and shivers. "Well, my idea of a good time isn't just sitting here and freezing my ass off!"

"If you want to pick them off for us, suit yourself!" Severus calls as Ron begins to walk away.

Ron stops and his entire body begins to shake. Wrong thing to say. Absolutely the _wrong_ thing to say. Ron has already had enough of being mocked, of being refused as Leader. If someone doesn't do something soon, he's going to snap. It's only a matter of time.

And he does. He turns on all five of his allies with stunning ferocity with that pickaxe. Three go down before there is even awareness of what is happening. The Career alliance is ending a little earlier than expected.

Ron beats Aravia over the head with the pickaxe and zero remorse. He saves Severus for last, torturing him and dragging his death out slowly. Five cannons now sound in rapid succession: BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

My mother and I stare at one another, horrified but impressed. He's going to win. Ron Stafford will be Victor. Plus, he is in a land literally covered with his natural element - water! Yes, it's frozen water, but when melted down, he could go off of that for days if he really wanted to.

Ron moves quickly. The District 12 boy, from the district with the worst Victory record, goes down quickly. The boy from District 10, with a more robust crop of Victors to go off of, puts up more of a fight, but he too falls to Ron and the might of the pickaxe. Claudius Templesmith announces his victory.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winner of the 68th Annual Hunger Games: Ron Stafford. I give you... the male tribute from District 4!"


	6. Chapter 6: Finnick's Toy

**Chapter 6: Finnick's Toy**

At Ron's final interview, he is in his element. His face looks smug, and he gloats richly in the fact that Caesar practically grovels at his feet the entire time. In Ron's view, the game show host should be embarrassed for doubting him.

When Ron returns to much celebration, I fly into Finnick's arms as the District 4 entourage arrives in the Village. "Welcome home!"

"Hey," Finnick chuckles. "There's my best RedHead!"

I then approach Ron. "Congratulations, Ron, on your victory," I say as politely as I can.

Ron looks me up and down once, though not in a leering way. In fact, he seems unimpressed. "You're Finnick's toy," he guesses with crass rudeness.

I blink once, certain I misheard as my face grows very hot. "Excuse me?"

"Ron, don't talk so rudely to her!" Librae barks. "Annie is a part of Village life. She cleans all of our houses and you'd better get used to her, cause she'll now be cleaning yours! Five houses to maintain is nothing to shake a stick at. And she isn't a toy!"

Ron just rolls his eyes. "Yeah, whatever." And he stomps up the stoop of what will be his new home, slamming the door.

Muscida sighs and leans her elbow on Mags' shoulder. "There's one in every Victor family, Mags. I haven't seen a winning tribute that arrogant since Haymitch Abernathy himself. Or maybe that Brutus Gunn fellow."

The comparisons of her new protege to two Victors who won over a decade ago does not lighten Mags' mood. "What am I going to do with him?" she sighs.

"Same thing you threatened to do to me when I was his age: if he ever gets too annoying, we can take him out and beat him," Muscida suggests, only half-joking.

But Mags seems merely amused by the idea, allowing Muscida to help her into her house.

I, meanwhile, follow Finnick into his. We can talk about Ron later. For now, just being with him is enough.


	7. Chapter 7: 70th Reaping

**Chapter 7: 70th Reaping**

The year after Ron wins, Jackson Spidell - a male tribute from District 10 - rides to Victory. They do not have as many Victors as the bigger Career districts, but they are one of the few that come close. That fight almost as well as Careers, too.

Before I know it, it is the reaping for the 70th Hunger Games. My very last. The Mayor gives the Dark Days speech, and then the names of Past Victors. The list is starting to get long, but also respectable. I wink at Finnick. Get through today, and I can spend the rest of my life serving him, as a housekeeper... and perhaps as more one day, if I can pluck up my courage.

"Annie Cresta!"

What?! She said my name! No... NO! But no one volunteers for me as I take the stage. Emily would for me, but she can't; she's aged out, and about to marry.

I barely hear the name of my district partner, Sage Thornbush, a 15-year-old, as we tributes are then marched into the Justice Building. Only my mother and sister visit me. I know Finnick would, if he were allowed. But it is against the rules for a Victor to visit his protege.

All too soon, we are guided onto the train and are leaving my home. I am almost certain I will never see it again.

* * *

Dinner that night is a near-silent affair. Almost everyone is moping about, with the reality of their favorite housekeeper going into the arena hanging over them. Only Ron appears to not be morose, an inappropriate contrast that has Librae glaring at him all night. If she could conceivably murder him and get away with it, the middle-aged woman would probably do it.

Finnick has to mentor Sage. Muscida officially mentors me. Mags just picks at her food. It's unusual for them all to be here - most years, the three women split mentoring duties amongst themselves. Last year, Ron alternated with Finnick for the first time, with the latter supervising. But I have a feeling that all the Victors have rallied around me. And I address this when I leave to go to bed:

"I know you're all upset," I begin, not daring to call Ron out for his odd behavior. "But I need for you to mentor Sage and I equally. No choosing between tributes. Can you do that?"

"Of course," Muscida agrees, even as her eyes still betray concern for me.

Finnick is staring resolutely out the window; he does not say anything in response to my request. "Finnick?" I all but beg. "Please."

He finally nods once, very shortly. He's going to have the hardest job, mentoring a tribute and pretending to care whether he lives or dies, when we all know - even Sage - that his real concern lies with the others: me. Ron can act as bizarrely as he likes and it won't affect anything. "All right." Then he grabs for my hand when I turn to leave. "But don't think I won't try to get you out. I feel... such tenderness for you. It is difficult to express."

I go to bed in a lovesick tizzy.

* * *

Arriving in the Capitol, meeting my stylists and the Chariot Parade is all a blur. It is always is, even when I have watched from TV and not actively participated.

In Training, I size up my competition fairly quickly. The winner will be District 2. One of the their tributes - Sophocles or his partner, Cassandra - will be the Victor. After the end of the three days, our scores are broadcast. Sage gets an 8 - excellent for his youth. I pull a 6, barely above mediocre. Ron actually makes an effort to pretend to be angry with me. Finnick just looks worried and crestfallen.

For my interview the fourth and final night, I am dressed in a dazzling sundress. Sage gets a lot of good laughs and I am sure someone will try to sponsor him, despite his prohibitive age. Most Victors, with the exception of Finnick, average to be about 16 years of age or older. When it's my turn, Caesar takes in my sundress, which he says matches my flaming red hair. I'm sure it's just his way of being nice, because with the yellow patterns of the fabric, I don't see it.

"So, Annie: what do you like best about the Capitol?"

I play the angle I worked on with Muscida: giggling little schoolgirl, in awe of all the spectacle. "The really tall buildings! All the cool technology!"

Caesar asks me a few more questions, and then my three minutes are up. I hope I did all right.

* * *

I go up to the roof of the Training Center after the interviews. To be alone. So imagine my surprise when Finnick comes bounding up to join me.

"I can't take it anymore! You're so beautiful, and..." He cradles my round face in his warm, calloused hands. "I might kiss you."

I gulp nervously, my eyes wide and fearful. "I might be bad at it," I whisper.

Finnick chuckles ruefully. "That's not possible." Then he bends and kisses me full on the mouth.

Well, really, he gets the corner of my mouth. His lips dance halfway across my frozen ones. At last, I get my wits about me and turn my face into his, fully kissing him back.

I now become a woman possessed. Throwing Finnick down on the concrete, I straddle his waist, not once breaking the kiss. Finnick quickly flips us, pushing my sundress up almost over my head. He then tears down the bodice in order to take one of the perky nipples of my now-bare breasts into his mouth. Only my waist is tightly wrapped by my dress. I arch into him. "Finnick..."

I feel something break, something snap, in my core, as Finnick suddenly and swiftly slides into me. He pounds into me for several minutes as I thrash and wail beneath him. At last, he lets forth a sound like none I have heard from man nor beast and cums inside me.

Later, we lie together, wrapped in each other's embrace. I am naked, but feel no shame. Finnick kisses me awake on the nose, then my lips.

"Hi," he whispers.

"Hi," I beam back. "I'm glad I saved myself for you."

He blinks at me. "I took away your virginity?" I nod. He smiles genuinely. "Well, then, I'm honored."

At least I won't die a virgin, having slept with the man I love.


	8. Chapter 8: Best Swimmer

**Chapter 8: Best Swimmer**

I wake for the arena early the next morning. Sage and I say goodbye to our four mentors on the Training Center roof, where a hovercraft will take us away to the arena. I can tell Finnick wants to kiss me goodbye, flagrantly and in front of everyone - damn the Capitol consequences! - but he doesn't. Ron actually shakes my hand, as he does for Sage. Smiling, I decide to be kind to the Victor with an attitude problem as I peck him on the cheek. Finnick smiles in approval. He's not jealous. Love is never jealous.

The tracker is placed into my arm and when we arrive at the arena site, I am hustled underground. I say goodbye to my stylist and march into the pod. I try not to give away the throbbing ache still between my legs. If I die, I want to die in a way that Finnick would be proud of. Bravely.

I rise into a woodland arena. On one side, is an imposing pile of logs. A dam. Holding back water. The Cornucopia is in the center of the field of a valley, for mountains line three other sides. At my back is a forest of trees.

I don't run for the Cornucopia when the gong goes off. I turn tail and run into the trees without a weapon. From the treeline, I watch as everyone else makes for the backpacks and supplies strewn about. There are many death screams, and bodies fall left and right.

Within ten minutes, the cries of battle have ceased, and only five survivors stand living. My other Careers.

Cassandra, the girl from 2, has quickly assumed the mantle of leader. She must be, for when Sage orders her to count up all the bodies, she scowls. But the complies, her lips moving but barely speaking the numbers.

"16... 17... 18 dead. Five of us! Then... who?" She looks towards the trees, in completely the wrong direction from where I hide.

"Oh, man!" groans the boy from District 1. "One got away!"

I decide to be brave. I emerge from the trees and come into the field.

"Annie!" Sage breathes, looking relieved. Seeing I have no weapon and probably knowing enough about to no that I am no fighter, Cassandra starts towards me. But Sage gets in her way.

"What are you doing? She's a Career like us!"

"She's no Career!" Cassandra barks. "She's weak! I'm doing her a favor."

"And break the Career alliance now?" Sage logically points out to her. "Then the Games will just end by nightfall, cause we'll have to break it all up!"

But Cassandra has just about had enough of Sage and his intellectual posturings. "Move into position," she orders District 1.

"What are you doing?... UNHAND ME! OW!"

I watch in abject horror as Sage is forced to his knees by District 1. The monster from 2, Sophocles, holds me down and forces me to watch.

"This'll be fun," he whispers in my ear. "I think I'll then have a little fun with you, whaddaya say, Ginger?"

I shake. I will not let my last moments be raped by some monster. I won't lie with any man except for Finnick!

Sage, meanwhile, is trying to be brave in his last seconds by being humorous. "You're just like them Trump supporters! Or, those brown-skinned folk... what was their name? ISIS!"

Cassandra scowls. From the few days I've spent with her, I can tell she's pretty dumb. But not dumb enough to not get the joke, even if it is a bad one. Being compared to two groups of historical barbarians - no matter on which side of the Atlantic they reside - goes over this Career tribute's head like a lead balloon.

Sage's eyes lock with mine. "Annie: Run! No... no... NOOOOOO!" Sage's final scream reverberates through the arena as he is beheaded before my very eyes. They'll be going for me next.

I've had enough. I do the only thing I can in Sophocles's grasp and throw my elbow back. What I don't expect is for it to connect with the front of his face. I hear a sharp CRACK and I rationalize that I must have broken his nose. Sophocles stumbles backward in shock, but as he does so, his feet get tangled with mine and he loses his balance. There is another duller CRACK as he lands on his head, and I realize he has had the misfortune of landing on a tree root.

I turn tail and run, Sage's last warning blaring in my head like an alarm: _Annie: Run!_

"Let her go!" I hear Cassandra order.

I hide in the trees until nightfall. The Gamemakers finally sound twenty cannons in a row. And then the faces appear in the sky.

Four tributes left already. With my killing of Sophocles, I've probably just cleared the way for Cassandra to get the Victor's Crown. She'll kill the District 1 tributes, who are much weaker, soon, and then she'll have the easiest Top Two challenger in history. She's as good as won.

* * *

The next morning, I wake up to a rumble. I stare in shock as I see high waves of water sweeping through the trees. The Gamemakers have broken the dam!

The waters carry me away like a forceful lover. I go under, then manage to tread water and re-surface. I hear two more cannons on the wind. BOOM. BOOM. Probably District 1.

Just then, I notice Cassandra a few yards away from me, barely clinging to a piece of driftwood. As she disappears beneath the waves, I see the message behind her eyes: _How could I lose to you? How could you win?_

The cannon sounds and Claudius Templesmith announces my Victory: "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winner of the 70th Annual Hunger Games: Annie Cresta! I give you... the female tribute from District 4!"


	9. Chapter 9: Doctor in the House

**Chapter 9: Doctor in the House**

"Can I answer for her?"

"No."

"Can I at least hold her?"

"Forget it, Finnick! You go up there, you'll just be bringing more danger on yourself and us. She has to do this on her own," Librae scolds.

I don't know how I hear this amidst the murmuring of the studio audience, or see it among the lights trained on me. Caesar looks genuinely disappointed to be interviewing me and not Cassandra. But there have been underwhelming Victors before. At least half of District 6's few champions come to mind. And old Woof Casino of District 8, a contemporary of Mags, won by hiding until everyone else was dead, either in battle, arena traps or natural causes. You wanna know how many tributes he killed? Zero. At least I killed... one.

"So, Annie, how does it feel to be Victor?" Caesar asks me.

I don't say anything. What can I say? The way they order these interviews is whack. First, I was shown a three-hour marathon of my Games. Since most Games occur over many weeks, they are condensed. Finnick's was. But since Ron's was so short and mine was even shorter - probably the shortest ever - the Capitol gets to present the whole thing. And _then_ they ask me questions.

Caesar finally gives up. The Crown is placed on my head, and we all go home. Finnick rants and raves the whole train ride about how Caesar is biased, how I am amazing whether I won or not.

* * *

It is a few weeks after my Victory Tour, in mid-winter, when it happens.

We are all having lunch around Mags' table. Suddenly, the old lady stops in the middle of a sentence, and begins to speak funny. Then, she is convulsing over the table, foaming at the mouth.

"Mags? MAGS!" I scream, horrified.

"Get her up! Take her to the hospital! Here, Ron, help me!" Finnick begs. I notice how he is sobbing.

It takes both men to carry Mags to the falling-down building that is the district hospital. Librae spots for them. I trudge behind, with Muscida's arm over my shoulder.

We meet the head doctor once we are inside. He is very handsome, in a rugged middle-age kind of way. "I'm Dr. Andrew Lambert," he smiles, shaking each of our hands in turn. "I'm the Head Doctor of this facility."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'dump'," Ron announces, only half to himself. His arms are folded in that tell-tale sign to show that he is unimpressed, as he stares about the hospital.

"Ron!" Librae seethes.

"I must say, you are quite a motley crew of Victors," Lambert smiles, as if he didn't even hear Ron. Boy, would I like that talent whenever my colleague starts running his mouth.

"You can say that again," Ron mutters earning a THWACK upside the head from Librae.

"... and I was very pleased with your win last summer, Ms. Cresta," Lambert smiles kindly to me.

"OK, you _don't_ have to say that again," Ron points out, even as Librae threatens to hit him again.

"Ron, I'm warning you!"

"OK, let's get to work here," Lambert begins, as he checks into the computer files while Finnick and Ron haul Mags up onto the operating table. "Mags Flanagan-Cohen, 75 years old..."

"She'll be 76 in the spring," Finnick interjects. "In a couple weeks."

"We don't get many hyphenated names in Four," Lambert frowns curiously. "She's married?" I know what he's also thinking: that a Victor, of all people, to be married is even rarer. In Mags' day, a Victors' Code, forbidding attachments outside of blood family, did exist, but it wasn't strictly enforced. And it wouldn't be, until around the time Muscida won.

" _Was_ married," Finnick corrects. "The poor man has been dead for a long time, alas."

I never met Matthias Cohen. But Finnick did, has vague memories of him as a young boy. So the story goes, Mags took in the orphaned baby Finnick because she was having fertility problems. Matthias then taught Finnick most of what he knew about ships. He was a ship builder, as well as a fisherman on the side. The latter pursuit is how Mags lost him. I guess that's why, of the six of us, Mags has always feared the sea the most. She's also been afraid that Finnick would become what his adopted father was, and that she would lose him, too.

So it is that Lambert asks mostly of Finnick the questions pertaining to Mags' health. "Glad you have come straight to me! I can diagnose strokes in a heartbeat, but recovering from them -"

"You will be able to, won't you?" I ask.

"Oh, I'll be able to, certainly. And so will Mags. But it will be painful. And long. Very long. You're in for a rough time, Mags. Therapy after strokes is a _nasty_ business."

* * *

 **A/N: I didn't know what to do about Mags' name, after seeing it listed as Flanagan on the official HG Wiki. But it says Mags Cohen on the podium. So, I decided to split the difference and hyphenate her name. Also, you might wanna remember Dr. Lambert. He becomes kind of important later on.**


	10. Chapter 10: 75th Reaping

**Chapter 10: 75th Reaping**

District 7 racks up back-to-back wins - Johanna Mason and Pliny Arausio - for the 71st and 72nd Games. A Career tribute from District 2, Wade Rankine, wins the 73rd Games. And in the 74th Games, District 12 (of all places!) manages to get both of their tributes out alive in a remarkable co-victory, for the pair are apparently lovers.

The following summer, mandatory programming is anticipated for the twist involving the 75th Annual Hunger Games, or Third Quarter Quell. The night of the broadcast, Mags invites everyone over to her house to watch. We observe as President Snow recites the twists of the first two Quells. Then, he announces this year's twist:

"On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes are to be Reaped from their existing pool of Victors!"

Immediately, an argument erupts amongst the others over who is going to go back in. As for me, I am sitting there mum, the President's words still flashing in my head. I begin to hyperventilate.

"No... can't go... I can't go back into the arena; I just can't!"

"Annie!" Finnick snaps a little harshly.

" I WON'T GO BACK IN THE PODS!" I scream almost in his face.

 _What's the matter with her?_ Mags signs, but everyone else ignores her.

"Annie, dear," Muscida says gently. "No one's making you do anything of the sort."

"Oh, yes," Ron voices sarcastically. "Let's all protect precious little Annie because _she's_ so fragile!"

"Ron!" Librae hisses. "Shut up!"

"NO I BLOODY WELL WILL NOT!" he bellows; he looks about as unhinged as the rest of the district thinks I usually am. "I'M GOING TO SAY WHAT I'VE WANTED TO SAY FOR SEVEN YEARS, AND ESPECIALLY THE LAST... FOUR OR FIVE!" He breathes, but his ranting doesn't stop. His voice doesn't even calm down. "It's like I never left the arena. Or those damn Careers! No one makes me leader! It's always Finnick cause he's a model, or Mags, cause, you know, she was first!"

"And don't you think it's logical that we do it that way?" Muscida asks from her place on the settee. "Beauty and sentimentality are valued highly in the Capitol."

"But not smarts?" Ron demands. "Not brains?"

"Ron, these are descendants of people who voted for President Donald Trump - the President who started the Rebellion?" Finnick reminds him. "Smarts aren't exactly on their list of attributes. They're practically retarded!"

"Aside from that," Muscida gets back to the point. "Don't you think our spokesperson should be someone who can at least _pretend_ to share the Capitol's values?"

"Well, we can't make Annie Asylum our spokesperson, now, can we?" Ron snarls. "She'd remind them to much of themselves!"

This comment should insult me, as it puts me at the same intellectual level as the Capitol snobs, but instead I offer up seriously, "You could _so_ make me the spokesperson. I'm a Victor, same as you."

Wrong thing to say. Absolutely the _wrong_ thing to say. Ron screams with derisive laughter and shakes his head.

"You're no Victor," he snarls through clenched teeth. "The only reason you're alive is because the Careers went all trigger-happy like idiots and killed everyone who wasn't them in the first ten minutes. Then, they got bored, turned on Sage, and the Gamemakers said 'Fuck it, let's blow up the dam because this thing's gonna end way too fast anyway!' So everyone else drowns and _dies_. You're the only one alive who can swim. You win by default. The. Fucking. End. You didn't even kill anyone!"

"I killed the boy from 2!..." I counter.

"... which was a total accident!" Ron almost talks over me. "You hit him in the face!"

"That's enough," Finnick growls, his voice low.

"And then he loses his balance and his head just _happens_ to hit a tree root. He dies, so you sort of get credit for the death!"

"RON!" Finnick snaps. "I said that's enough! This incident's closed. Now, let's get back to work." He heads for the kitchen, probably to get another glass of water, before turning back to us. "And I don't want to hear another word about it!"

But Ron isn't done. Not by a long shot.

"We have to decide who's going back in," Librae says slowly.

"Well, it should be me!" Ron says immediately. "And you!"

Librae raises an eyebrow. "Me? Why?"

"Because it's either you, or a half-insane woman or a couple of Golden Girls!" Ron gestures around at us other women. Muscida looks hurt. I would be, too; our second Victor is only a few years shy of 70, which by District 4 standards, isn't old at all. With the salty sea air and rewarding work, many folks here easily live into their 90s. "You're scarcely past 50, Librae; you might still have a chance."

"And you would too? Against Careers your age and older? Forget it, boy!" Librae snaps.

Ron looks taken aback by her put-down; he must feel it's a pretty good idea. "Well, we have to put our district's best foot forward! And we have the option to do so. Poor Woof Casino of 8 has to go in. And Daniel Bernhradt of 9 will be in; you know he will! And Haymitch's new brats!"

"Just the girl," I argue. "The male could be Haymitch!"

"Oh, bull!" Ron waves me away. "That boy wanks so much to the Everdeen bitch in bed. He'll do his damnedest to go back in with her!"

"Ron, you're assuming things that you have no business assuming! Don't count Haymitch out!" I stress.

"He's drunk," Ron flips me off again. "He's drunk every year!"

"Yeah, and the last time there was a Quell, HE WON! Against a field worth two arenas!" I'm beginning to lose my patience with him. And I can tell the others are, too.

"You better watch your step, Ron," Librae warns. "You have a Victor to protect."

"Protect? _Her_?" Ron points to me. "Please, we all know that's Finnick's job. He protects her more than he's _ever_ protected me! And I'm his first Victor! But, oh no, five years ago, it was all 'Annie this' and 'Annie that'; I heard him jacking off to her in the top bunk - it was pathetic! And she leads him on! What about the Code - the one that forbids attachment?"

"Outside of one's immediate family!" Librae finally has had enough. "And you better get this through your head, Ron - as of right now, we _are_ Finnick's family! And _yours_."

Ron scoffs. "Some family. We're just... a madwoman, two old ladies, a middle-aged cow, and a vain playboy!"

Librae folds her arms. "And you: a brash boor," she announces.

"Ooooh, burn!" Muscida mutters under her breath.

I've lost my patience, too. So I finally ask of Ron, "Why? Why are you so cruel? I've tried to be kind to you, for Finnick's sake! Why are you like this?"

" _Why_?" Ron thunders. "Because you're sweet. And kind. And good! And... I'm not!" Having revealed too much, he turns tail and flees out the door.

Stunned by what I've just heard, I turn to Muscida. "Is Ron... jealous of me?"

"Yes," she replies immediately. "But not for the reasons you think."

"Is he jealous because I'm... with Finnick?"

"Read between the lines, dear; it's pretty obvious," Muscida smiles tightly.

* * *

The day of the Reaping dawns hot and sultry. As in past years, a Peacekeeper escort comes to collect the six of us from the Village and escort us to the Justice Building. Only, this time, we are guided not to the stage, but to pens in front of the crowd: Finnick and Ron in one, me and the other women in another.

The Reaping itself takes less than a minute. "Annie Cresta!"

I put a hand to my face and burst out into hysterical sobs. I'm going back in! No... no... NO!

And then Mags is jumping up and down and waving her hand in the air, like a child who has to use the bathroom, and she, not me, is being hauled up by the Peacekeepers to the stage. She needs both their assistance and her cane to get up there.

"Finnick Odair!"

I nearly topple into Muscida as my lover takes his place next to his adopted mother. I keep waiting for Ron to volunteer as tribute, but he doesn't. Of course he wouldn't!

The six of us are then guided to the train. Ron will have to mentor the young man who once mentored him to Victory - there's no one else available for the job - but he asks of us, "OK, which one of you ladies is going and which ones are staying?"

"Oh no," Librae spins back to him, as Muscida staggers me and her to the train behind Mags. "This is an intervention, Ron; we _all_ gotta go!"

"Why? You don't need 3 - I'm sorry... _2_ women to mentor _Mags,_ for God's sake!" This is an obvious put-down on me and my lack of mental state, as the couple of years I have mentored, I needed one of the other girls as supervision; I'm usually not all there. Whether this is also an insult on Mags and her advanced age is not for me to determine.

"Ron," Librae growls slowly. "You _git_ on that train! _GIT_!"

And Ron stomps aboard like a child who's been denied a cookie. The door is pulled to, and the six of us pull away from District 4.

At least one and possibly two will never see its oceans again.

* * *

We watch the rest of the Reapings on TV in companionable silence.

I am sure the Capitol is pleased with our "existing pool of Victors. We out-rank districts like 3, 6, 8, 9, 11 and 12, and are not far behind high-scoring non-Career districts like 5, 7 and 10. And we have multiple options for each gender. Except for the bigger Career districts, most of our counterparts don't have that luxury.

The Reapings for Disricts 7, 8 and 9 go by in a blur because Johanna Mason, Woof Casino and Daniel Bernhardt are the only living Victors for their Districts and gender. Johanna won the year after me and in a ferocious way; I'm glad I won't be facing her in the arena. She's friends with Finnick, but barely tolerates me. She actually reminds me of what Ron would look like, if Ron had breasts, a vagina and a really poor menstrual cycle.

But here's the tragic part: the Quell lineup seems skewed towards the younger generation. With a good chunk of Victors dead or aging (only 59 out of history's 75 still live), most of those either Reaped, volunteer to be Reaped, or are replaced by a volunteer are people my age. My peers. There is the classic brother and sister duo from District 1 who won consecutively just before Finnick. Poor Wade Rankine, the boy from 2 who won the year before last, is replaced by a volunteer in Brutus Gunn. He is over 40 and apparently can't wait to get back in the arena. Tiffany Waxler, the girl from 10 who directly succeeded Finnick as Victor, is Reaped, and her partner, Jackson Spidell, won in the off-year between Ron and I. And Peeta Mellark, in an outstanding act of courage, replaces Haymitch Abernathy of District 12 to be with his lover. They are both just 17 years old.

Ron scoffs. "Idiot. He shouldn't have saved old man Abernathy."

"At least we won't have to face a _Quarter Quell Victor_ in the arena," I emphasize, beginning to get annoyed by Ron just opening his mouth.

There are older folks as well. Cecelia from 8 is the mother of three children and one of the few Victors who is married. Brutus and Daniel Bernhardt are middle-age. So is Chaff, the male from 11 who won just several years after Librae. Woof and Mags are the only tributes who could be considered elderly.

When we arrive in the Capitol, we meet up with the other mentoring Victors while Mags and Finnick are getting prepped by their stylists. One of the first we meet is Haymitch Abernathy. Outside of my District 4 family, he's one of the few Victors who's ever been nice to me.

"Congratulations on your historic win last year, Mr. Abernathy," I say sincerely. "You deserved it."

"Thank you, little lady," he slurs, and I wonder how much he's had to drink. "And now they have no shot at life!"

"We wanted to have a word with you about a possible alliance?" Ron floats, getting right down to business. He doesn't seem to be at all concerned by what are obviously rapidly fraying emotions for the old drunk.

Another voice calls Haymitch over. "Sure, we'll talk about it," he promises. "The Boy is willing, but convincing Sweetheart will be trouble."

I find it annoying that Ron makes us sit next to Haymitch during the Chariot Parade. He's taken over the role of leader in our little mentoring pack, which no one has fought him over, not even Librae. But Ron knows one thing: he is trying to work every angle for his tributes. And drunk as he is, Haymitch Abernathy is a hell of an angle. With District 8 Indigo Weaver's death, he's the only man alive who's been in a Quarter Quell and lived to tell the tale. Only then do I realize that we never actually decided who would be Mags' mentor. Librae has largely usurped that role, which I find problematic. She and Ron could easily butt heads and result in us getting nothing done. But Muscida has adopted the task of comforting me. My task? Just sit there and shut up.

After the parades, we meet up with Mags and Finnick.

"Finnick!"

I see Johanna Mason, the only living female Victor from 7, approach my lover. He puts his face very close to hers, and I have to crane my neck around to see what they're doing. But no, they're only talking in low whispers.

"At least she's safe..." I catch Johanna hiss.

We are whisked into the brand-spanking-new Tribute Training Center and go up to the fourth floor.

Training begins the next day. Librae quickly gets it down to a science where she wakes Finnick and Mags at the last moment, so that they are always some of the final tributes to arrive. This means that we largely get an elevator ride down to the basement alone, which gives Finnick and I a few precious moments of privacy. We mostly spend this time passionately making out, much to Ron's annoyance.

Over the next three days, we mentors work every angle we can. Ron seems to have his heart set on getting in an alliance with District 12. Why, I don't know. It is said that the girl is pretty adverse to making new friends, which only makes me wonder how a boy like Peeta Mellark managed to woo her. Katniss Everdeen reminds me a lot of Johanna Mason, and none of the comparisons are good. If it were Finnick and I in the arena, Haymitch's kids would be stealing our thunder as lovers. It would be almost impossible to box them out. And if it were Ron and me, or worse, Ron and Mags... I have no doubt that he would kill either me or her sooner than any tribute from another district. Unlike Peeta volunteering for Haymitch and Mags volunteering for me, loyalty doesn't run very deep for him. In fact, it runs about as deep as Brutus Gunn, who I know damn well didn't volunteer for Wade Rankine out of loyalty. He did it for the glory, nothing more. And if Ron had volunteered for Finnick, he would have done it for the same reasons as Brutus. Not to save anyone's life, but to go through the aggravation, the blood and the sweat and the tears, of trying to make your own life immortal for a second time.

And Ron definitely wouldn't have volunteered for Finnick to ensure that he and I stayed together. For if Ron can't have Finnick, then no one can.

At the end of the Training, the scores are broadcast. Finnick once again pulls a 10, tying with Enobaria, the woman from 2. Mags nets a 9. I have no idea how she managed that, in her old age. She can barely talk.

The fourth and final night are the interviews. Mags' is a painfully long three minutes of miscommunication. She can no longer speak beyond maybe one or two words, and Caesar hasn't learned sign language. All she can manage are simple signs and grunts.

When Finnick gets onstage, he recites a poem for his one true love (that would be me): "My love: you have my heart. For... all eternity. And if I die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips."

In my periphery, I can see Ron start to turn his head towards me, only to have Librae grab his skull and force him to face front. Also of note is Finnick's determined refusal to look at me as he recites this poem; he resolutely stares at the exit signs for the studio. About 100 women in the audience faint because they think he's talking about them.

I can see why my colleague and lover are doing this. They are trying to preserve the Victors' Code. Finnick taught it to me after he won, then retaught it to me after I won. Ten years ago, we were only friends, so Finnick was convinced that having me close would not hurt either of us. But now...

By the time the girl from 12, Katniss Everdeen, gets up there, her wedding dress sends the studio audience into a tailspin. Peeta Mellark deals the final blow by announcing that Katniss is already married to him and pregnant with his child. Coverage ends with all the Reaped Victors joining hands, as a deliberate sign of Rebellion.

Ron is nearly panicked as we return as a six-member group to Floor Four. "You could have damned us all!" He yells at Finnick and Mags before going straight off to bed.

I hold Finnick tighter in his bed that night.

* * *

 **A/N: The argument of this chapter is the first part of the story I ever wrote, because I had the dialogue in my head. I also got the flesh out the characterizations of the other Victors. The implication that Ron is gay was purely spontaneous, but it worked because it gave him a motivation to hate Annie.**


	11. Chapter 11: Quell, Days 1 and 2

**Chapter 11: Quell, Days 1 and 2**

I kiss Finnick goodbye in his room. Well, technically, it's our room, but the room assigned to me has hardly been used.

There are no such romantic farewells before the hovrcraft. It is emotional, yes, but not romantic. That doesn't mean I can't think romantic musings, though. I want to refuse that the Peacekeepers take him away. Better yet, I want to swap him with Ron. For Finnick to live, even if it means Ron's death. I banish such dark thoughts. No. I don't. He's dreadful, of course. But like it or not, Ron is my family now.

When the rest of us enter the Mentors' Bar, most of our colleagues inquirie directly of Muscida, even though she isn't mentoring. Librae and Ron are. I am pleased to see that this maddens Ron to no end. But after six years on the job, he should know how Victor interactions work. Victors mostly interact between districts through the medium of seniority. If you want to pool a sponsor gift, or get your tributes into an alliance, you approach the oldest living Victor available. In most years, that has meant Mags, but she is now destined for the arena again after over six decades. That means our colleagues turn to Muscida. And if Muscida was not available one year for mentoring, if she stayed behind in the Village? That would mean deference to Librae. And in some rare moments, Finnick. Almost never Ron. And none of my colleagues would ever approach me.

That is why we take seats next to Haymitch at the Bar. Even if Katniss and Peeta were here, and not bound for the arena for the second time in as many years, if Four wanted to make a deal with Twelve, we would go to Haymitch. The Seniority Rule actually benefits newer Victors. Then, when their mentor dies, the Victor next in line will have sufficiently been groomed to take over. But in Katniss and Peeta's case, this would have been a problem, for who won first? Nobody really knows.

The arena goes live at precisely 10 AM, and my heart goes into my throat at the sight of it. It is a giant jungle, centered by the Connucopia on a rocky island in the middle of a miniature sea. Rocky spokes jut out from this island, creating a path to shore and creating watery wedges. The tribute pedestals - two each - are confined to every wedge.

I spot Finnick. He has been paired off with Marian Green, the kindly grandmother from District 9. Katniss is trapped with old Woof from 8. And Peeta has had the pleasure to be paired with Marian's district partner, Daniel Bernhardt. When the gong goes off, I am sure Daniel wouldn't hesitate to kill The Boy. Katniss could probably take out poor Woof without a bow. And Marian would be no match for Finnick.

The gong sounds. Only a few Victors dive into the water and swim for shore. Katniss is surprisingly one of them. I don't know where she learned to swim like that in District 12, but she is one of the first tributes to her nearest rocky spoke, barely beating Brutus, who was in the wedge next to her, there. She then races Gloss Ritchson-Schlund, the male from District 1, for the island, and she only beats him when he trips over his own two feet.

Katniss is the first to the horn. She arms herself with a bow and shoots the Careers back, getting Gloss in the leg and barely missing Enobaria, the woman from 2. When she takes aim again, it is at someone directly behind her. My love. Finnick.

But he only smiles and holds up his wrist, attached to the hand already armed with a trident and poised to strike. "Good thing we're allies, right?"

Katniss seems to recognize the pendant, for she demands, "Where did you get that?"

"Where do you think?"

I've seen the bangle, too. And I find myself staring at Haymitch's empty wrist as he takes a shot from his glass. "Trust us," Ron snarls as I stare past him in my line of vision.

Then Finnick is telling Katniss to duck as he impales a rushing James Logan of District 5. I guess their allies now, for Finnick is giving Katniss orders while he goes to find Peeta.

Meanwhile, Mags, despite her age, has managed to doggy-paddle her way to the island. She is the one who spies Peeta first and points it out to Finnick, who alerts Katniss. Even though it's pretty clear that, like most of the Victors here, neither Peeta nor Daniel know how to swim, that hasn't stopped the latter from pulling the former into the waves, where they are now clumsily treading water and furiously engaged in a reckless wrestling match. Daniel won on wrestling, but I have heard tell that Peeta is a pretty excellent wrestler himself. He must be, if he is able to hold off a man almost thirty years his senior.

Katniss takes aim for Daniel's head as Finnick dives in. She can't be going into the water if she's pregnant. Just then, Peeta and Daniel disappear under the tide before Finnick can reach him. I hear a canon, and I see Katniss lower her bow, fear in her eyes. Is he...?

Two bodies break the surface: one living and one dead. And the one living is...

Peeta.

Shouts of shock and roars of approval split the Bar. Peeta seems to trust Finnick towing him to shore almost without question. Then, the four tributes run for the jungle, leaving the others to do battle.

By mid-afternoon, they have gotten far into the trees, when all at once, there is a sharp CRACKLE, and Peeta is blasted backward, knocking his allies to the ground. They have reached the forcefield marking the edge of the arena.

Katniss goes into hysterics, even trying to kill Finnick when he performs basic CPR. She must not understand what it is. For a while, Peeta's body gives no response, but then he breathes. Katniss clutches him close, shaking with relieved sobs, while Finnick watches almost in awe.

My colleagues and I haggle with Haymitch as the heat of the day increases, and by the beginning of the evening, after the eight dead have appeared in the sky, we have sent the quartet a spile. It is used to tap water from the trees; having grown up around trees, Katniss will probably know what it is and how to use it.

'Sweetheart', as Haymitch ironically calls her, takes first watch while the others settle down to sleep.

* * *

It is the wee hours of the next morning, and the Bar is practically deserted. Ron ordered me to bed several hours ago, but I refused, not trusting him to keep a watchful eye over Finnick.

And it's a good thing I do stay up, for Katniss suddenly has a wave of fog come towards her. When she reaches out to touch it, it burns her hand.

"RUN! RUN! THE FOG IS POISON!"

Finnick carries Mags on his back, only half-awake himself, while Katniss guides Peeta. But they don't get very far. Something is up with their muscles; they won't obey the masters' commands, and I think the fog has something to do with it. The strain soon proves too much for Finnick, especially after he makes the Herculen effort for several yards of carrying both Mags and Peeta at once.

"I'm sorry, Mags, I can't do it."

Mags kisses Finnick on the lips, and marches into the fog. Finnick calls her name until he hears the cannon.

Muscida and Librae are crying, and even Ron has the good sense to look crushed. I, for one, can't believe it. Mags sacrificed herself for a boy she barely knew. Although she must have bonded with Haymitch's kids over training, because for a time, Haymitch had reported to us that Katniss wanted an alliance not with Finnick, but with _Mags_. Then, she had backed out, and Haymitch must have decided to just choose an ally of his own.

She's dead. I will never get to see her make music with her fingers and the air. Her sign language. Mags was like a grandmother to me. I know she knew of the relationship Finnick and I have, and it seemed to have earned her approval. All the same, I would have liked to ask for her blessing, if a wedding had been announced.

The three survivors purge their foggy wounds in a pond, only to get attacked by monkeys. Another tribute once again saves Peeta's life, as the three escape to the beach.

It is now late morning. The horn looks deserted, but the beach soon isn't. Three blood-red figures soon appear, as Finnick and District 12 disappear into the trees. But then, Finnick recognizes one of them.

"Johanna!"

"Finnick!"

The pair run to each other and actually chastely kiss. The gesture shocks and deeply annoys me. What is my lover up to? An alliance, probably, for after Johanna relates her own sad tale with District 3, of all people, the two trios merge into one group of six. Together, they take over the horn unopposed, and figure out the arena is rigged like a clock.

The Careers attack without warning, stabbing Wiress, the woman from 3, but losing Cashmere and her twin Gloss along the way. All at once, the Cornucopia starts to spin, throwing Katniss into the water and breaking up the fight.

The five now go to the beach to regroup. Already, we are down to Final Eight: District 2, Beetee (the man from 3), Finnick, Johanna, Chaff (the male from 11, who lost a hand in the Games he won three decades ago. I must say, his survival is impressive), and District 12.

The only question now is: with eight dying each day so far, who will win by tomorrow's end?


	12. Chapter 12: Capture and Imprisionment

**Chapter 12: Capture and Imprisionment**

It is the waning hours of Day 2 of the Quell. And already, the Victors are talking about what happens if Finnick dies.

I've heard the whispers. Many of my colleagues seem to the think that, if Finnick does perish, I should marry Ron Stafford. Really. It is customary in most districts, but especially in Four, for a widowed wife or girlfriend to marry again, or for the first time, to a new love interest or close friend. No, it isn't fair. And yes, it would technically be a brazen violation of the Code. But the other Victors seem to think that it would keep the problems we have already incurred from the Capitol 'in the family.' For we are like one big family. I don't see how a forced marriage would benefit me. But it might benefit Ron, if for no other reason than it would help him to hide his suspected homosexuality. The Capitol frowns on that sort of behavior, which ties into its conservative/authoritarian streak going back decades.

Once, Panem used to be a democracy called the United States of America. Then, that country elected its final President, Donald J. Trump. He was a mean and vile men who was called by many names, no more so than Incompetent. And its enemies used that to their full advantage when Coriolanus Snow - an young acolyte of a country once known as Russia - earned a place in Trump's Cabinet. He is rumored to have poisoned some of the President's closest advisers - men lost to history like Kushner and Bannon - before assassinating the President himself on the inside. He began to create the country of Panem, an authoritarian regime. Supporters of the deceased President poured into what was then called Washington D.C. and held rallies for Snow that were once meant for Trump. Any dissenters were killed, leading to the new Capitol's love for violence as entertainment. The districts, or former states, with their liberal factions, rose up against the Capitol. The uprisings at many of Snow's rallies were the first sparks of rebellion that led to what is now known as the Dark Days. Meanwhile, Snow went in and rigged the whole system.

On the screens, Beetee is finalizing his electric trap for the Careers. The feed now cuts away to the girls, running a spool of wire down to the beach. I look down at my drink for only a moment. Haymitch's idea of a fair trade is to always return it with free drinks for everybody. I don't drink - just display a glass for show - and Finnick hardly does, either.

When I glance back up at the screen, all hell has broken loose.

The Careers have attacked the lightning tree, driving the three men apart. Beetee is wounded, and when the feed cuts away for a second, I can see with horror that Katniss has also been wounded. She is stumbling about, calling for Peeta, her arm bleeding profusely. There is no sign of Johanna.

Get ready for a free-for-all Final Eight. And it seems to open that way, too. One camera gets Peeta, separated from the others, running through the jungle. "Katniss?"

A black figure suddenly runs into his path, only to then by intercepted by another figure that is clearly male. But Finnick is not that big, and Beetee is still wounded under the Lightning tree.

Brutus kills Chaff without mercy. But the fight winds him, and he is not prepared for a much younger and enraged Peeta, who now expertly pins the aging Career and kills him.

The other Victors in the bar stare in wonder. There have been some surprising kills and twists in the Games before, but nothing like this. Peeta had no business killing Brutus. But I know how he did. He wants his Katniss, and no man alive will keep him from her...

"KATNISS!" With Chaff and Brutus out of the way, and Beetee on his way out, Finnick's path to the Crown is almost clear. His last hurdle is Haymitch's kids, two of the finest tributes I have ever seen.

The last six now converge on the Lightning tree. Katniss shoots an arrow, but not at anyone, there is a CRACKLE and then -

The screen goes black.

"What? What happened? Ron, get the Games back! Get the Games back!"

"I'm trying!" Ron grabs a nearby remote and starts wailing on it, but it works about as well as the TV.

Peacekeepers burst into the Bar without warning, spraying machine gunfire. Those Victors who aren't killed instantly are mowed down trying to run or duck for cover. Only one person gets away safely, slipping out a side door: Haymitch Abernathy. I try to follow, but a guard aims for my head. I close my eyes and try to follow the advice of Finnick's poem: _My last thought will be of your lips..._

A body suddenly jumps in the middle of us, his body convulsing as he takes the bullets for himself that now riddle his back. He falls forward and lands on me. It is Ron.

Amazingly, he is still alive, staring at me intensely. "Live... You understand me? Live!"

I shake my head in absolute terror as he bunches the fabric of my sundress, just below the bodice, in his fists. "NOW! What are you prepared to do?" He sounds like a teacher who is going to make his student repeat what he just said.

"I forgive you," I only say quietly instead.

He gives me his signature smirk - but a genuine smirk this time - and collapses on top of me. He moves no more.

I lay under him like that for many hours, playing dead. It isn't until a Peacekeeper's boot rolls Ron off of me that anyone realizes I've been faking.

* * *

The blindfold is only removed from my eyes when we reach the dungeon. I have no idea exactly where it is, only that it must be underground.

I am stripped of my sundress, still stained with Ron's blood and in nothing but my lingerie am thrown into my cell.

The prison walls are wet and black. My chains on all my limbs, and further attached to the wall, are heavy. Weigh me down. But the dampness has created some decay in the walls, allowing me to see into adjoining cells. I see Peeta Mellark in the one next to me, and if I angle my eye just right, I can peep into the one beyond that to discover Johanna Mason has also been captured. If they survived the arena, what of Katniss? And Finnick?

The Peacekeepers beat me. They rape me. Either one will do as long as it gets them the information they are seeking: what do I know about the rebellion? Rebellion? There's no Rebellion! But as they continue to beat and rape, there is one kernel of information I withhold from them. Even if I gave it up, I don't know if it would help as I don't know what it means: during the Quell, Haymitch, Ron and sometimes Librae would periodically leave the Bar, sometimes for up to hours at a time. Other Victors did too, but they always made sure to go in or out individually, at intervals that were never consistent, so as not to arouse suspicion from the Peacekeepers. So that, by the time that one group - or what could be considered one group - of Victors had returned, another had taken it's place. Where were they going? What were they doing? Planning strategy? If so, it seemed unnecessary to leave the Mentors' Bar; there were booths and tables for that, right behind where I was sitting at the bar.

Meanwhile, I witness the torture of my fellow Victors. Peeta is savagely beaten, and sometimes injected with a special venom derived from tracker jacker insects. Johanna is water-boarded, occasionally raped. I can hear Peeta's moans and screams as he is injected, Johanna's wails as she is submerged.

One day, I am forced from my cell and into Peeta's next door. I hear guards whispering that, since the tracker jacker venom is not working at its current dosage, and rather than risk amping it up and losing even more money, the Capitol has authorized more creative approaches. A Peacekeeper slams the muzzle of his gun into my temple, forcing me to my knees, I avert my eyes when I see that Peeta Mellark lies stark naked before me.

"All right, Gingy! Suck his dick! Let's see if he remembers Sweetheart then!"

I don't know what he means by the last comment, but I will not do what he wants and risk betraying Finnick. I won't!

"NOW!"

With the muzzle of a gun at my brain, I have no choice. I am of little to no use for the Capitol; they wouldn't have a problem shooting me. I look at Peeta plaintively, asking him to forgive me.

Then, I take him in my mouth and begin to suckle. He tastes tougher than Finnick, but also different as he is uncircumcised. I wonder if Katniss Everdeen has had his foreskin between her lips. Peeta is very jovial throughout the ordeal, weaving his hands gently into my hair without harming my scalp, the way Finnick sometimes did when I did this to him. At last, Peeta comes in my mouth. I proceed to swallow every last drop, still afraid the Capitol will kill me if I do not obey.

"Excellent! Now give him anal!"

"You're out of your damn mind," I bravely rasp through the last of Peeta's cum to the Peacekeeper.

The butt of his gun hits me in the side of the head, and I go down at Peeta's feet. "Fine! Bitch: you do it!"

I can only imagine what Johanna did to earn that nickname, as she, having been dragged in after me, is stripped stark naked as Peeta. Another muzzle of a gun to her head, she is forced to straddle Peeta's waist. She comes down on him, his bloated dick sliding into her vagina. I can see Johanna's eyes prick with tears; it must hurt. I don't know if Johanna has ever had sex consensually before - she never seemed the type who was that interested - but she nevertheless puts on the performance of her life as she bounces up and down on Peeta's dick, riding him hard.

"Uh... uh... UHHHHH! UHHHHHHH!" Johanna throws back her head and moans, arching into Peeta as he takes one of her perky nipples in his mouth as reply. At last, with a scream, she climaxes. Soon after, Peeta follows into her with a grunt.

Still astride him, Johanna kisses Peeta once softly, sensuously, with tongue, likely to praise him for going along with her and sparing them both. Then she gracefully rises off of him. Her amazing display only warrants her another beating from the guards.

And as Johanna is beaten, I black out. Will this nightmare ever cease?


	13. Chapter 13: Rescue

**Chapter 13: Rescue**

Just like when the Peacekeepers burst in with guns suddenly signaled my time as a prisoner, so too does strangers bursting in with guns signal my liberation.

Our Peacekeeper guards abandon us, and the strangers who are Rebels take Johanna and I away. It is a stuggle to get a far more monstrous Peeta out, and he finally has to be knocked unconscious in order to be extracted.

We are taken to District 13, once thought destroyed but that has survived underground. There is a hospital where we rescued prisoners are taken care of.

And where I see a face I thought I might never see again.

"Finnick!" I stumble to him, clad in nothing but a bedsheet, but I don't care. I am beaming. "Finnick!"

When he takes me in his arms, we stumble back into a wall, kissing as if we will never stop.

That night, Finnick shows me his apartment quarters, and makes love to me in his bunk. Throughout our reunion, he tells me of how he and Beetee and Katniss were rescued from the arena by the Rebels and how he has thought of nothing but me for months. I'm just happy to be back in his arms.

* * *

I get my first in-person sighting of Katniss Everdeen a few days later, in the hall.

She is walking ahead of me, in a gray jumpsuit and pants that really accentuates her buttocks from the back. All at once, I hear her call to somebody beyond her in the crowd.

"Finnick! Finnick!"

My lover turns to her and suddenly kisses her on the lips. Katniss smiles, but does nothing to kiss him back. Yet she does not refuse him either, allowing her lips to curl into a smile against Finnick's lips, as if she is amused. Neither of them see me, but the kiss is as brief, over as quickly as it began.

But I barely notice even this, as I hurry away in tears.

All at once, a few things start to make sense. Finnick chastely kissed Johanna Mason on national television during the Quell. And is it just my imagination, when they were whispering after the Chariot Parade, did he kiss her in greeting then, too? And now this business with Katniss. Of course he would fall for her! She's pretty, and in their mutual pining for their lost significant others, it is only logical that they would turn to each other. My imaginings take on a life of their own as I stew...

* * *

 _Katniss and Finnick are sitting in a bunker deep in District 13. They sit side-by-side on a bottom bunk, watching as Katniss flashes a flashlight around so that a stray cat can play with it._

 ** _"Katniss, I owe you an apology,"_** _Finnick confesses._ _ **"I thought your love with Peeta was fake, but when he hit that forcefield, I knew..."**_

 ** _"Knew what?"_**

 ** _"I knew I misjudged you. You love him."_**

 _Katniss stares at him for a moment, before finally looking away. She then notices the piece of rope Finnick is knotting in his hands._ _ **"What are you doing?"**_

 ** _"Oh, this? It's a trick Mags taught me. Then Annie and I perfected it. If I keep myself doing something physical, it helps me cope."_** _He gazes at her._ _ **"It takes you ten times to put yourself back together than it does to fall apart."**_

 _Katniss gulps. Then, suddenly, she kisses him on the mouth. Finnick kisses her back and pulls her with him onto the bunk. Katniss boldly straddles his hips, undressing him. Finnick pushes back her pants, pushing them over the smooth curve of her ass as he caresses the tender flesh there. Katniss rides him, throwing her head back and moaning like a whore._ _ **"Uh... UHHHH! Finnick..."**_

 _Then Finnick flips them and pounds into Katniss as her legs spread wide._ _ **"FINNICK!"**_ _She cums. Finnick follows with a growl soon after..._

* * *

"Annie? Annie!"

"Huh?"

The elaborate fantasy with Katniss and Finnick are gone, replaced only by my lover. "You OK? You were zoned out there. The arena again?"

I shake my head. Then I bravely voice my real thoughts. "Have you fucked Katniss Everdeen?"

He blinks. "What?"

"You heard me. Have you fucked her? You seemed awfully cozy with her when you kissed her just now in front of everyone!"

"Oh, that!" Finnick laughs. "Well, I'm like that with my good friends who are girls."

I raise an eyebrow. "I'm a good friend of you."

"No, you're my girlfriend. That's different." And then he goes on to explain how he and Katniss grew close in the arena and especially over these last few months. He even relays a story about how he stripped naked to cheer Katniss up. I am not amused by the story. There were times after my Games when I was certifiably depressed, and Finnick never stripped naked for _me_ , thank you very much.

"You can't save every girl out there, Finnick! Not Katniss, not Johanna. There's only one girl you can save... and that position's already been taken."

"Katniss is having a really hard time being tied to a madman!" Finnick argues, in a clear allusion to Peeta.

I step back as though struck. "And are you aware that you are willing to be tied down to someone people view as a madwoman?"

"That's not what I meant -"

"I WANNA KNOW YOUR INTENTIONS!"

Finnick swoops down on me and kisses me. "I intend to make you my wife, Annie Cresta. Clear?"

I nod in stunned silence.

* * *

 **A/N: I was originally going to have the fantasy sequence as a flashback to something that actually happened. But I was nervous to do so after _Axes Grind_ poor reviews. Eventually, I was ready to admit that it was a lost cause for me, that the sequence had to go away... in order to predict it. I was ready to turn it into a separate AU one-shot. Then I thought that what if it was a fantasy from Annie's perspective, so that the focus is not taken away from her? Psychology studies exist that ask respondents to imagine their partner in sexual positions with someone else. **


	14. Chapter 14: District 4 Wedding in Distri

**Chapter 14: District 4 Wedding in District 13**

I first meet Katniss Everdeen the morning after my argument with Finnick. She is very beautiful, but also very kind. She offers on the spot to loan to me - still a total stranger - one of the many wedding dresses designed for her Capitol wedding to Peeta, but were never used. "Finnick owes you his life," I tell her.

She swallows thickly. Her gaze is a flat affect, but intense. I don't know why the thought occurs to me, but I suddenly wonder if she is asexual. Katniss, like Johanna before her, seems like the kind of girl who could have a man take her in his bed, and not bat an eye. Not because she would not consent, no, she would just be... unimpressed. I don't know why I get this impression as Katniss swallows thickly. "Thank you."

I feel sorry that I ever thought of her as a... I can't even bear myself to think the word now. Finnick and I marry in a beautiful wedding thrown entirely by District 13. It is complete with many District 4 traditions that are important to our homeland's refugees here. And Haymitch somehow commissions Peeta himself into doing our wedding cake, complete with waves and little fishing boats. To hear the old drunk tell it, having Peeta do the cake served as a sort of therapy. If my wedding cake helps him get better, even gradually, who am I to object?

Finnick and I are pronounced man and wife and we kiss. Never mind that we have just broken the Victors' Code. All of that doesn't matter now. But if marriage for a Victor is rare, then marriage between two Victors is even rarer. Aside from now Finnick and me, I can think of only one other instance. Woof Casino and Savera Inchcape were married in secret for years. Very few of their colleagues knew about it. It only makes me wonder where Finnick and I went wrong, if close to 60 people knew the secret to our relationship and yet managed to keep it to themselves and not give away such information to the Capitol. Except for those damn jabber jays using my voice to call Finnick's name... That was an arena trap on the second day of the Quell, in which the surviving tributes were tortured by their loved one's screams. Katniss heard her baby sister, Peeta (even though he was safe in the very next clock wedge), and another male whom I didn't recognize at the time, but would turn out to be Gale. Finnick heard only me, and he ran about like a madman trying to get to me, screaming my name: "Annie? ANNIE!"... Anyway, I actually knew a Scorpii Inchcape, a Career Victor from District 1; she and Savera were distant cousins once removed or something. So the story goes, Savera fell in love with her tribute Woof leading up to and during the 17th Games, and did all she could to bring him back alive. When he did win, they entered a relationship, and wed in secret soon after their pupil, Indigo, won the First Quarter Quell. Being the new Mrs. Finnick Odair, I wonder if Katniss Everdeen would be willing to become Mrs. Peeta Mellark. Maybe not now, with how poorly Peeta is doing, but... someday.

Som refugees break into the traditional wedding song: _"I tell ya of young men in black-and-white coats, and it's say, to the port side, heave ho. You'll cart your bride off in a flat-bottomed boat to mysterious fathoms below."_

There is dancing, too. And at one point, I get to dance and talk with Katniss.

"We've never been properly introduced," I say.

"Why, no," she smiles.

"I'm Annie Cresta." Then I catch myself. I'm a married woman now. "I mean, Annie Cresta _Odair_."

"Katniss Everdeen," she replies. We shake hands and talk as we dance. I think that we might have the start of a great friendship. All at once, Haymitch approaches us.

"Katniss, Peeta would like to see you."

Katniss suddenly looks fearful, so I feel the need to warn her. I take her hand.

"Katniss, the Peeta you see in that locked-down room might not be the same Peeta you remember."

But I get the funny feeling that, as she walks away with Haymitch, she already knows.


	15. Chapter 15: The New Peeta

**Chapter 15: The New Peeta**

One day, not long after our honeymoon, Finnick and I join Katniss and her friend, Gale Hawthorne, in the mess hall for lunch. Johanna is also present for the meal. About halfway through, I get the shock of my life when Peeta Mellark is allowed to sit with us. It is the first time I've truly seen him since we were busted out of prison. I think the same goes for Johanna too, but she takes it more in stride. "We had adjoining cells in the Capitol; we're very familiar with each other's screams."

I want to say that we are familiar with a lot more than that, but I keep my mouth shut.

The lunch with Peeta starts well, but gets progressively worse. He and Katniss ignore each other, the latter almost sadly. I didn't hear much from her hospital visit with Peeta, only that it didn't go well.

Then, Peeta begins arguing with himself like he's two separate people, over the truly grueling topic about whether Katniss is a mutt or not. But the clincher is when he suddenly makes overtures to me. This sends me into an arena flashback, in which I see Sage murdered repeatedly, and only Finnick's soothing words bring me back. "You better hang on tightly to her, Finnick, or I just might take her away from you."

Finnick gives a very fake smile. "Oh, Peeta, don't make me regret re-starting your heart." And he all but drags me from the table.

If Peeta's behavior was disturbing, that of my husband was actually worse. I was with Peeta in prison for months, but Finnick was partners with him for little over two days in a fight to the death. I don't know who should claim the right that they know the real Peeta more, but I think it's Finnick.

* * *

I am so distressed that I go to Haymitch Abernathy about the problem. Eventually, the whole truth of my imprisonment comes out to him, District 13 President Alma Coin, and former Head Gamemaker Plutarch Heavensbee. I beg Haymitch to keep this information, which could be used as rebel intelligence, from my husband. "And you can't tell Katniss about what I did to Peeta. If she knew... she'd kill me, probably." Who would let the woman who gave her boyfriend a forced blowjob live?

But Haymitch only laughs. "Oh, little lady, Sweetheart has a cunt of steel. She's not gonna care." I don't know what to make of this statement, but I chalk it up to Haymitch just trying to make me feel better.


	16. Chapter 16: The Victors' Council

**Chapter 16: The Victors' Council**

When Finnick tells me he is going to the Capitol to film more propos videos, I don't question him. They're just like the videos I used to see on TV when I was in prison.

So I nearly lose the baby when rebel leaders inform me that my husband has been killed in the line of duty.

But I get through the rest of my pregnancy healthily, and when it is time to deliver, I am helped by a familiar face.

"Dr. Lambert!"

"Hello, Mrs. Odair." His use of my married name reminds me of how I am a widow at only 24, and makes me despondent.

When the baby boy is born, I name him Finnick Odair Jr. To remind me.

* * *

When the war ends, I am summoned to the Capitol. I am just off bed rest with baby Finn, which I have taken to calling him to avoid confusion with his Daddy, but I go anyway.

I find that six of my fellow Victors who survived the war have also been called by the Acting President of Panem, Alma Coin. The only surprise entry is Enobaria Golding, the woman from 2 from the Quell. Peeta says she was captured from the arena with him and Johanna, which is news to me, because I did not see her one day in our dungeon.

Coin has us take a vote on having a final, symbolic Hunger Games. With Capitol children. Peeta votes No immediately, but Johanna and Enobaria both shrug their shoulders like they don't care and vote Yes. I vote with Peeta: No. "Finnick would too, if he were here."

"Well, he's not, because Snow's mutts killed him," Johanna snaps. I scowl. After all we went through together, how can she be such a bitch.

Beetee votes No with Peeta and me, leaving Katniss and Haymitch. To my shock, Katniss votes Yes. "For Prim" - the baby sister whom she lost. How could two women who have both lost loved ones come to such different conclusions? Haymitch votes Yes just because Katniss did, which is deeply cowardly of him and tips the vote. 4 to 3 in favor.

So this is democracy. Sounds fair. Meeting adjourned.


	17. Chapter 17: Mrs Everdeen Arrives

**Chapter 17: Mrs. Everdeen Arrives**

I pick up Finn in Thirteen, where I left him in the capable hands of Effie Trinket, Katniss and Peeta's old escort. We then return home to District 4.

The place seems much smaller than I remember. Though that might be because most of the district was firebombed out, including our only hospital. Only the Victors' Village was left standing, which makes me wonder if that wasn't intentional. If any Victors did survive what is being called the Victors' Purge, they would need a place to come home to. To serve their self-imposed exile. And Snow probably didn't count on there being more than one surviving Victor from each district, if any survived at all. Enobaria, Beetee, and Johanna will be alone, like me (my sister and mother were deceased in the war, I discover), but Katniss and Peeta will have each other, with Haymitch watching over them.

Oh, if only my six compatriots featured my five companions! My beloved husband. Old Mags. Muscida's gentle touch. Librae's refusal to suffer fools. And Ron - snide, sarcastic Ron! I'd even want him there. And if it wasn't for him, I would likely not be here and Finn wouldn't exist.

So, when I return to the Village, I do what I did every day for almost a decade, and especially every summer. I give my companion's old mansions one last cleaning.

I do Finnick's first, as it will be the hardest. Then Mags'. I save Ron's for last, finding a picture taken of him and Finnick not long after the former won his Games. Ron's last words echo in my head: _NOW! What are you prepared to do?_

I am prepared to live. For myself and for my son.

* * *

The knock on my door is unusually early. Actually, it's unusual in and of itself; I rarely get visitors.

But what I find on my stoop is a woman with blond hair streaked with some clumps of white. She is pretty, hardly any wrinkles, though she's clearly middle-aged. And there's something about her eyes that seems very... familiar...

"You're Katniss Everdeen's mother, aren't you?" I thought she would be in Twelve with her daughter and the young man who will likely become her son-in-law. Katniss and Peeta and I have exchanged letters on occasion. I even sent one to Haymitch for an update, though the old man didn't respond.

"And a refugee like most others," Mrs. Everdeen explains. "I need to start my life anew, and a change of scene might be the best way to do that."

I don't ask why she isn't with her daughter, but I have my suspicions. With Prim's death, Mrs. Everdeen likely wanted to stay as far away from her grief as possible. And that meant staying far away from her surviving daughter.

I do know, from the conversations I've had with Katniss, that her mother is a Healer - probably the only one in Twelve for many years. She was the daughter of an apothecary, apparently.

Which means I know just how she can help.

To not stay bored, I have been helping Dr. Lambert rebuild the District hospital. It finally recently re-opened, and I have since been working there, as a physician's assistant. It's rewarding work, and I am given benefits that allow me to raise Finn. So that is where I take Mrs. Everdeen, who insists that I call her Lillian.

Dr. Lambert is very impressed with her qualifications and hires her on the spot. When he sees how she can take command of an operating room and work on even the toughest patients without fear, he is filled with admiration for her.

"She's amazing," Andrew breathes. "You say she was the only Healer for her district?"

I nod.

"Amazing! Like mother, like daughter, I suppose."

Lillian soon rises to become Andrew's right-hand woman. They work together a lot and talk quite a bit about medicine. Lillian once jokes how Primrose would help her. "My eldest girl couldn't stay composed at the sight of blood."

 _And she's the one who still won the Hunger Games. How ironic_ , I think.

One day, I am searching for Lillian regarding some consultation on a patient when I hear moaning coming from a storage closet.

"Oh... UHHHH! Yes, Andrew! Harder... faster..." When I open the door, I find Lillian with the kind doctor thrusting into her, all sweaty and with a wild look in his eyes. He doesn't appear to see me, but Lillian does, and quickly pulls him close in an attempt to cover herself. "Oh, Annie! What's... what's wrong, love?"

"Um... there's a patient who needs a morphling dose. But I can get it if you're... busy."

Andrew takes one of the nipples of Lillain's bare breast in his mouth and she arches into him with a cry. "I'll be right there, dear!" she gasps.

I all but run down the hall.

I can see from my house a nice stretch of beach. From here, I can see Andrew and Lillian taking more walks along the shore together. One evening, I see Andrew get down on one knee, even though he is not a fisherman leaving on a dangerous voyage.

I never imagined that Lillian would say yes.

* * *

It is sunset on a beautiful summer's evening. Andrew brings his face very close to Lillain's. Hesitant at first, she reaches up to him and meets him halfway in a passionate kiss. Slowly, as Andrew's tongue slips in between the opening split, I can see Lillian's mouth curve into a smile against his.

Instantly, Andrew picks his new wife up and begins to carry her towards a - what else? - flat-bottomed boat, as fisherman cheer and begin to sing the traditional wedding song: _"I tell ya of young men in black-and-white coats, and it's say, to the port side, heave ho. You'll cart your bride off in a flat-bottomed boat to mysterious fathoms below."_

Lillian laughs, and manages to wriggle out of her second husband's kiss, before dunking him in the water. That's the other wedding tradition that most people don't talk about. Like it is tradition for the bride to be carried away to a flat-bottomed boat, so too is it tradition for the groom to get dunked.

"Wait, there's one more thing!" Lillian cries and she turns to me. "Annie, fetch me a piece of bread from my kitchen, would you?"

I run to get it, and quickly return to see that Lillian has actually started a fire, using driftwood from the beach. She toasts the bread I give her, and then prompts her new husband to share it with her, before pulling her to him and kissing him soundly.

"Now, we're married," she tells him. "No one from Twelve feels really married until after a toasting." The people of Four are intrigued.

"Shall I call Katniss and Peeta with the great news?" I ask.

"Better make it a letter. And no, don't mention to my daughter that I have gotten married. But you can still write them," Lillian advises.

Surprised, I nod. I don't know why Lillian would not want the only surviving daughter of her first marriage to know of her second marriage. But I go to write the letter anyway, as Andrew and Lillian sail away for their honeymoon.

 _You'll be happy to hear that Katniss's mother is working at the hospital in District 4 and developing new medical units for the Capitol. Gale has been promoted to a captain in District 2 to help keep order and security. And I am enjoying every moment with my son; he reminds me every day of his father. We have had a hard road, but we owe it to our children to do the best with these lives. I hope you are both finding some peace. ~ Annie._

I don't mention the wedding, as Lillian suggested. I enclose a picture of myself and Finn and send it off.


	18. Chapter 18: Baptism by the Sea

**Chapter 18: Baptism by the Sea**

When Finn is about a year old, I pen a letter to Katniss and Peeta, asking them to be his godparents, if, heaven forbid, anything should happen to me. They write back affirmatively within the same week, and a baptismal date is set.

Most new babies in District 4 are baptized right in the ocean. It has religious connotations that are seen as a good omen.

When Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch arrive from the District 4 station, Finn, Andrew, Lillian and I are there in the Village to meet them. After Andrew and Lillian got married, I offered them one of the Village's empty mansions, which also doubles as a place to bring patients after hours, in the event of an emergency. Besides, having a Victors' Village doesn't really matter anymore. I only wish more people would take over some of the empty houses - the houses where my companions once lived have since been turned into museums and are not available - as it would be nice to have some neighbors.

"You must be Katniss. I've heard so much about you. I'm Dr. Andrew Lambert," the kind doctor says.

"My new husband," Lillian announces with great courage.

Andrew holds out his hand to Katniss to shake it, but she does not reciprocate. Indeed, she stares at his hand as though he has a weapon in it, the shock that her mother wed again behind her back not leaving her face. Peeta and Haymitch, if they are as surprised, don't show it as readily. This is what I have learned from serving with Peeta in prison, and from watching Haymitch all these years. Nothing throws either of them.

And they can both see that the announcement of Lillian's new marriage is causing great tension.

"More brandy?" Haymitch hollers, shoving his liquor bottle in between the expanse where Andrew and Katniss are awkwardly not shaking hands, almost right up the poor doctor's nose. Meanwhile, he whirls to Katniss. "And, Sweethrart, I think it's high time you go somewhere private to change. You are _not_ baptizing your Godson looking like you are leaving on one of your hunts! You should have changed into your dress on the train!"

I quickly offer the services of my mansion, to further break the tension, as Katniss scowls at Haymitch. But she turns and flaunts up the hill. I follow at a distance, carrying Finn, who is already reaching for his godmother. He is already enamored with her; he must think she's pretty. I find Peeta walking beside me and appeal to him:

"Peeta, Lillian asked me not to tell her! I thought I was doing the right thing! You must talk to her!"

Peeta just gives a hapless shrug. "Annie, I can't ask her to be less than she is."

I frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

When we return with a changed Katniss to the beach, I can see the other guests have arrived. Enobaria is pushing Beetee in his wheelchair onto the sand. And Johanna Mason has arrived with a guest on her arm. And what a guest it is! Gale Hawthorne.

Haymitch intercepts Katniss on her way down to the shore, and a few choice words are exchanged. Peeta gets between them, and the ceremony begins. I place Finn in Katniss's arms and she suddenly looks both fearful and emotional.

"I've never held anyone like this since... Prim." Peeta pats her arm soothingly. Katniss then goes down and wades into the tide when prompted. Sinking to her knees in the waves, so that her blue dress mixes in with the tide, she allows the priest to baptize my baby. Peeta, The Godfather, looks on with pride.

"If anyone thinks these two people are not worthy to take this infant in their care should anything happen to the mother, let them by God stand up!" The priest orders.

For some reason, everyone looks at Gale, but he doesn't make a sound.

"Then, Finnick Odair Jr., I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, Amen," the priest intones. Finn is woken up by the water poured on his head, and he begins to cry. Katniss soothes him. "It's all right, sweetie. Your Godmommy is with you. And your Mommy, too... Ssssh..."

We all gather on the beach after the ceremony is over. Katniss is still holding Finn. She stands close to Peeta and actually stands on tiptoe to kiss him, my baby between them. "It's like he's ours," Peeta smiles. Then, he looks over to me, but I smile back in approval. They've been through a lot, but their good people. And I know they would raise Finn well if anything should ever happen to me.

Meanwhile, Johanna and Gale are furiously making out. Haymitch stares with disapproval. I think he is debating if he'll live if he kills Gale, even if that means getting in a fight with Johanna Mason. But I'm confident the drunk can handle himself. He didn't win the Second Quarter Quell for nothing.


	19. Chapter 19: Wedding in District 12

**Chapter 19: Wedding in District 12**

"District 12! Next station stop, District 12! All a-a-board!"

I turn to my 4-year-old son and smile as the train begins to slow to a stop. "Do you have your present for Auntie Katniss?"

"Yes, Mama," he smiles.

As the train pulls into the District 12 station, Finn and I prepare to step off the train.

"What are you here for?" the conductor smiles.

"A toasting," I reply, using the word Lillian taught me. Since moving to District 4, she has lost some of her old culture and adopted many of our customs, but she still knows how a wedding in Twelve works.

The conductor smiles. "It's a nice day for one."

Today is the day Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, my son's godparents, will be getting married. As is vintage Katniss, only a simple ceremony will do, in the woods. No Capitol camera crews or paparazzi. Just she and her groom and a few guests. The fellow Victors. And Finn. She invited her mother and stepfather, but they sadly could not come. Hospital conflicts. But it would seem as though Katniss and Andrew are on good terms.

A wedding will be good. Finn has only been to one other, in District 7, when his Auntie Johanna wed Gale Hawthorne. I never thought it would happen for someone like Johanna. Unfortunately, Katniss sent word ahead that she could not come. For some reason, she felt like she would be in the way. But that also meant no Peeta or Haymitch. So the entire reception and actual ceremony, the only people I could really talk to were Beetee or Enobaria. The rest of the guests were folksy strangers from District 7. It's hard to follow whenever Beetee speaks, although he is a wonderful old man, always good to Finn. And talking to Enobaria is just plain awkward. I'd never forget who tried to kill my husband in a wild arena. And Enobaria did try to kill Finnick. We mostly invite her to Victor events because she is one, Career or not; it's best to be polite.

Maybe this wedding - I mean, toasting - will be a lot more lively, and it is. Katniss and Peeta toast bread over a bonfire, then they kiss and everyone cheers. Their lips lick the errant crumbs off of each other.

During the reception, Finn and I finally get Katniss's ear. As we practiced, Finn bows to his godmother and presents her with his gift: a red rose.

"What did you want to say to Auntie Katniss?" I prompt.

"That she looks like a princess," Finn reports shyly, still in his bow and staring at the ground.

Katniss curtsies before him, so that her wedding dress fans out beneath her on the grass and she looks a little like an unfolded parasol, with her bodice the stick part. She accepts the flower with a smile. "Thank you." She pecks his cheek.

Finn smiles. Second to me, his godmother is his most favorite person in the world. And I can see why. She is so tender with him. And there are few people who get to see that side of Katniss Everdeen... Mellark. Her new husband is one. And my little boy is another. And... that might be it. She is friendly with me, though a little shy. And she definitely has as frosty a relationship with Enobaria as I do. She and Haymitch butt heads a lot.

"Auntie Katniss?"

"Yes, baby?" Katniss asks her godson.

"Mommy had me in her tummy when she married Daddy. Does that mean you have a baby in your tummy, since you married Uncle Peeta?"

I should also mention one other thing: that Finn is unusually smart for his age. Sometimes too much for his own good. I've told him the story of his birth, but I don't know where he got such an idea. Katniss stares at him for a moment in bewilderment.

"Honey, who told you there was a baby inside Auntie's tummy?" she asks him, and for a moment, I panic, thinking that Finn has stumbled on some little secret. But Katniss is flushing, looking a little embarrassed. She also has that look she gets in her eyes when she wants to flee from something uncomfortable. Fight or flight. "I... you should ask your godfather about it."

So Finn takes off to find his Uncle Peeta, only to be mercifully stopped by Johanna and asked for a dance. But even if Finn won't hear about this later, I will.

* * *

I am outside on the back-screened in porch of Peeta's mansion in Victors' Village, when I hear voices coming from the kitchen.

"We have a 4-year-old godson in this house who thinks that because we got married, I'm... pregnant!" Katniss is telling her new husband.

Peeta laughs; this doesn't seem to bother him at all. "So? The kid's remarkably intuitive! The rhyme goes 'First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage.' Right?"

"Not one right after the other!" Katniss stresses. "I just... I didn't have the heart to tell him no. I'm not pregnant."

"But you will when we get pregnant, right?" Peeta floats, hope in his voice.

There is no answer. I hear footsteps coming and I quickly settle myself in a chair away from the door. Katniss comes out a moment later.

"Sorry, Annie, but this house is close to bursting," she apologizes. Johanna and Gale are staying the night. As is Beetee. Enobaria had to get back to 2. Haymitch wanted to stay, but Katniss angrily reminded him that he has his own house, right over there! Finn has his own little bedroom downstairs. I have to sleep out here.

Katniss now presents me with coffee. "Cream and sugar?"

"Thanks," I quietly accept it. I take a sip. "Are you and Peeta considering it, though?"

"What?"

"Children."

Katniss blushes furiously, she looks very reluctant. And I wonder if anyone else has asked this question before. Her mother probably, in phone calls. Maybe even Haymitch, for Lord knows that man has no tact. Like Ron Stafford was, the old drunk is a plain-speaking Victor, he speaks as he finds. "I don't know... Peeta is a lot better than he was, but... I'm still afraid. Of what might happen and what I can't control. But... Finny's question today... I think if I got pregnant, it would be in the hope that Finn could have little cousins to play with."

I am struck by Katniss's admission. "There is no pressure from me! Or Finn! But, if you did have a child, you and I could do Mommy things together!"

Katniss smirks, amused. "What are Mommy things?"

"Oh, getting our nails done, going for walks with the children..."

And we prattle on for the rest of the night.

* * *

 **A/N: "There's been a change in me. A kind of moving on, though what I used to be I still depend upon. For now I realize that good can come from bad. That may not make me wise, but, oh, it makes me glad!" ~ Alan Menken, _Beauty and the Beast_ **


End file.
